Little Waltz
by Mussimm
Summary: Stay for a while, while our leaves are still green. Please. For me. Songfic. Oneshot. ShikaTem.


**A/N:** The song for this fic is "Little Waltz" by Basia Bulat.

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The night seemed alive. Crickets chirped, the wind rustled through the leaves, the grass of their favourite hillside danced with droplets of fresh rain. The night sky blanketted Konohagakure with uncountable stars. This night was alive but undisturbed, a peaceful harmony. The music of the forest that surrounded the town. An owl flapped its wings, letting out a calm call to greet the new night.

Temari looked up at the stars, dizzied by the enormity of the sky. She hadn't seen such a clear sky in a long time. Suna's skies were clearer than Konoha's, but these stars seemed to shine with a different energy, they sung a different song. She sighed, leaning against a tree to contemplate the world.

She would leave again day after tomorrow, as she always did. It was a rhythm she had become used to. The hot days and punishing missions of Suna, her family and friends, her history and her satisfaction, punctuated every six months with a respite of moist air, long days, laughter and peace. Her work and her reward. She wouldn't have loved this place so much if she didn't work so hard to get back every time. She never requested to be the liaison, but her Kazekage always knew that this was the only thing she desired in exchange for her unfaultering service to Sunagakure.

Another human presence had come to join the forest's beat. Temari watched the lanky figure climb the hill toward her. This was something else she'd never asked for, but somehow demanded. His lazy steps brought him closer, making her heart tighten just a little. Every six months, he would greet her at the gate and she would feel their ties bind just a little closer. One less inch between them as they walked, one more moment to linger before she left. One more beat in her rhythm.

Shikamaru approached, unspeaking. His eyes were on her and she knew that she was staring. He wouldn't look away, and she wouldn't blush. He wanted to look, and he knew that she did as well, and neither was tactful enough to know how to do so. She couldn't say when it happened, but somehow they had formed a silent agreement to forgive each other's awkward social skills and drop the embarrassing pretense.

Temari's heart beat a little faster as he slouched against a tree across from her, clumsy eyes sweeping her. Her hands tightened around each other, trying not to show him too much. He sighed heavily, telling her that something was on his mind.

"I miss this hillside the most," she said airily, reaching up to pluck a flower from the tree she leaned against. Shikamaru watched the flower in her hands, his eyes hazy, his expression mixed. The ties that bound them were about to tighten again, she knew it from his expression, from the motion of the night. This was the time and the place when walking away would become harder once more.

"Why?" he asked, pulling his hair out of its tie. He looked too good with his hair down, she had decided a long time ago. It wasn't supposed to be this way, but it was. He was three years her junior, still a child compared to her, and her many Suna admirers. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Whatever differences they had, physical, mental, emotional, had not stopped her missing him each time she arrived home.

"All the best things happen here."

Temari wandered toward his tree, she made as if to walk past him, but stopped as his fingertips touched hers. This was a dance they had perfected six months ago. They would toy with this idea, tossing it wordlessly into the air. His touch was intoxicating, so she would only take a taste. Their hands brushed together, then retreated. Temari held onto the warmth that flooded her chest.

Uncaring in her clumsiness, she fell to sit beside him, leaning on his tree. This time they didnt look at each other. She didn't want this to end. They would forego the blistering entanglement that was waiting for them patiently, instead taking in these silent moments. Temari wanted the electricity that shot through her at his touch, but didn't dare take the chance. Too much would be addictive, too much would be painful. Soon he would realise that she didn't know how to be affectionate, had no right to foray into love. Instead they would dance they way they always had.

"You're leaving soon." Shikamaru's statement was hollow, like it had cost him something dear to speak it. More like an accusation. Temari felt her breathing hitch, it wasn't part of their game to say something like that. She let their shoulders touch, but he pulled back, turning to look at her.

Temari instantly felt the sting. Had he rejected her? The appreciation in his eyes had dulled, they weren't hazy anymore. She was unsure of the steps to this new dance. He had spoken, and broken their agreement.

"Yes," she stated plainly, unsure of what he wanted her to say. If he needed to hear it from her that she was once again leaving, she couldn't sugar coat it. Trying to pass his first reaction off as poor position, she reached out for his hand. He jerked back.

"You can't ask me to play this game."

His face was etched with an unexpected hurt. Her first reaction was a kind of momentary elation, knowing that he was as tortured by their enforced distance as she was. The invisible strings that tied her heart to his jerked closer, and soon her elation was dulled by the realisation that she would be leaving him again.

"I never did," she replied, without any malice. It was just a fact, she had never asked him to dance, and he had never asked her. They had just gravitated toward each other, falling into step. She had no way of telling him that she loved him, it was too foreign. They could either walk away or never walk too close. That was the choice she had made, and though he understood.

"You're leaving soon," he repeated. "Then you'll come back, and leave again. You'll always leave."

She let the flower drop from her hands. It fluttered to the ground, petals soaked in mud. Did he want her to say that she would stay? Everything she'd ever held dear was in Suna. Everything except him. She adored him, but the thought made her cheeks flush. She looked down, trying to hide from him, although it was out of step. To adore a man, to spend five months thinking of a single night underneath these trees, when he had smiled at her, when their hands had touched and for a split second she'd felt his breath against her neck.

"I never enjoy it." Temari tried to hide herself among loose hair and shadows, unwilling to look at him. She held her head high still, willing the orchestra around her to provide her with cover. "But my mission is ending."

"Why the mission?" Shikamaru's voice was still even, though she knew his face would betray him is she looked. "Won't you stay for another day?"

The veiled question left her silent. She looked up at the stars through the foliage. They sparkled at her, telling her a secret that she couldn't decipher. Their dance had resumed. A secret, a question, a hint at something more that they'd both deny if ever questioned. Business had kept her. Loose ends that needed to be tied. It would only be one more day.

Temari knew it was the right thing to do. To answer his courage with her own. One more day. She wanted to give him this favour, but it seemed like a point of no return. A touch, not of hands or shoulders, but to her life, her rhythm. A new kind of respite.

She looked at Shikamaru, his face poignantly etched in moonlight. His hair fell around his chin, a kind of tired masculinity that she always found foreign. It was sexy. She felt an ache in her chest, begging her to indulge him. She suddenly found herself so badly wanting to accept that touch.

But not unlike the physical magnetism, she knew that too much, too soon would be driven by hormones and desire. It would be beautiful to lie with him on this grass for one more night, and to know that it was at his request. It would be so beautifully rash, pulling the strings to a constricting tension.

"Ask me again next year," she told him, feeling her voice come out in a rush of breath. It might have offended any other man, but he knew this waltz. One touch too many would be refused, but kept safe for the right time.

Shikamaru smiled his gentle smile, accepting her offer. She lay back against the tree, closing her eyes, feeling the warmth of his arm pressed against hers. An extra day would be something to look forward to for the next five months.

A sudden warmth on her face made her eyes flutter open. His hand on her cheek made her face flush. This was a serious violation of the rules. Her eyes met his, his stare was intense. Temari found herself unable to move, trapped by his soft brown eyes. Her heart ached fiercely, the words she'd wanted to say for so long hung on her lips.

He pulled her forward, the strings tightening with every disappearing inch until they touched. His kiss was warm and gentle, she folded into his waiting arms. His tongue ran gently across hers, a fleeting taste of each other. Temari trembled in his arms, feeling his nose touch hers, his heated breath, the arms that held her close. And the kiss. The kiss that let her know that the words didn't need to be said.

They didn't deepen the kiss, just touched each other's lips, gently sucking and biting, absorbed in each other. The stars above shone down, whispering their knowledge to all the forest, telling the trees of the young love that was blossoming amongst them. A warm breeze sung among the leaves, carrying the moment to the landscape.

Shikamaru pulled back, smiling at her and gently pulling her closer. Temari sighed against his chest, letting her eyes close. The warmth and protection he offered her was worth breaking their step. Maybe it had been irrevocably broken. It didn't matter. She stared up at the man who didn't need to hear what was too difficult to say.

"Maybe one more day," she murmured. She didn't need to look to see the grin that broke out on his face. He leaned down and kissed her hair, playing with one of her ponytails as he resumed staring up at the sky.

Next time she came here, they would be dancing a different step.


End file.
